


Got You Locked Down Like Police

by brawlingdiscontent



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Crack, Kidnapping, M/M, lilac sweater
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 03:39:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8517112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brawlingdiscontent/pseuds/brawlingdiscontent
Summary: Mob AU. Logan’s straightforward ‘retrieval’ job gets complicated. The only Apocalypse spoilers are sweater-related. (title from Miike Snow song, “Heart is Full”)





	

Logan moves silently as he enters the townhouse, scoping out the hallways for any additional or unexpected security features. It’s quite a nice place—more upscale than he usually encounters on these jobs. That Lehnsherr can afford to shake up someone this wealthy just proves his influence.

The furniture in the large foyer is glossy, dark wood, and a chandelier hangs in the entryway. To the side of the staircase that leads to the second floor is a sleek, custom-installed wheelchair lift. No doubt about it, this townhouse must have cost a pretty penny—and yet the security measures are negligible. Very odd.

Then again, Lehnsherr’s directives for the mission had also been fairly odd:

\---“ _I want this target picked up and brought in. He must be completely unharmed. And avoid force—unless he really makes you work for it.” One corner of the man’s mouth had turns up in a hint of a smirk._

_\--“You got it,” Logan grunts and goes to reach for the file—but Lehnsherr pulls it away and in a flash, is up in his face._

_\--“No, Logan, do you understand me? I will not tolerate mistakes,”—even though Lehnsherr is no match for Logan’s hulking form, Logan concedes that his menace and economy of motion are impressive._

_\--“I’ll get the job done as specified,” Logan assures him. Lehnsherr folds back smoothly into his seat “Good. See that you do.”_

Logan runs a retrieval service. Normally the city’s crime lords use their personal henchman to complete retrievals, kidnappings and various other sordid dealings, but if there’s something that needs particular attention, or is particularly high stakes or dangerous, they come to him. He’s seen it all and his reliability, high success rate, and ability to conduct himself with a quiet professionalism means he’s found himself on the payrolls of the most dangerous men in the city.

He crosses the second-floor landing, pausing opposite the study door where the home’s sole occupant appears to be hard at work,  papers strewn across a large oak desk as though by a whirlwind. He watches the professor write out a note, muttering to himself as he scribbles in pen. He’d caught several glimpses of the man when he had cased the joint earlier in the day, and this look only confirms his earlier assessment.

Logan doesn’t know what this mild-mannered professor has done to get on a mob boss’ radar, but he feels a brief twinge of sympathy for the man: Lehnsherr is a nasty son of a bitch, and he can’t imagine Dr. Shampoo-Commercial-Lilac-Sweater here will fare very well from their encounter. _Still_ , he thinks as he shakes his head and creeps silently forwards, _it’s really none of his business._                                  .

Moving quickly, he covers the professor’s mouth with a gloved hand while emphatically pressing his gun into the back of the man’s neck:  “Dr. Xavier? I’m gonna need you to come with me.” The man’s spine stiffens at the assault, but, unusually, he doesn’t immediately cry out. Logan quickly frisks the man for his cellphone which he turns off and tosses behind him. “Now I’m going to step away and remove my hand, but no screaming, got it?” He receives a terse nod from the tensed body, and, after a brief search under the desk for any sort of panic button, he moves back, keeping the gun aimed at his target.

Very slowly, the professor spins himself around in his wheelchair and turns to face his assailant. Logan knows he must be a terrifying sight—his mask and body armour covering a bulky frame, strengthened through years of rigorous training—which makes Xavier’s reaction a moment later all the more shocking. The expression on the man’s amiable face resolves from shock to something more aggrieved than frightened, and he retorts, “Oh, sod off!”

Xavier has been accosted in his own home by a strange, possibly murderous man and _this_ is how he responds?

“You can tell Erik to fuck off," Xavier continues, and while Logan is busy gaping at him— _Erik??_ —the man turns his chair back around and _goes back to work_. He resumes writing but, perhaps once he notices that Logan is still there, adds, "you can inform your employer that were I interested in seeing him—which I decidedly am not—I am perfectly capable of making my way over on my own.”

Logan stands there like an idiot for another second before he manages, “that’s a lot snippier than most people get when they’re staring down the barrel of a gun.”

Xavier snorts derisively. “You won’t hurt me. Erik wouldn’t allow it.” Xavier’s response is annoyingly confident; rife with the arrogance Logan associates with the man’s Cartier watch and Oxford accent, all the more infuriating in this context. Only a rich snob could believe himself to be bulletproof. But it seems there might be something else going on here; something that is out of Logan’s depth.

Figuring that honesty is the best policy in this situation, he rolls his shoulder impatiently, returns his weapon to its holster and replies: “That may be so, but I am authorized to use force if you don’t co-operate. Now, if you’ll please come with me.” He phrases the request very politely—he’d prefer to avoid manhandling if at all possible, it increases the chances of a mess-up.

The professor turns his head to the side, sighs, and mutters something that sounds a lot like “fucking prick,” before putting down his pen and spinning his chair back to face Logan.

“Well, if you must,” he says, and holds out his wrists for the zip tie that Logan has yet to even pull from his pocket—leaving him to wonder just who is in charge of this kidnapping.

\------

As he sits in Lehnsherr’s fancy town car—taken at Lehnsherr’s insistence and nicer than the beat-up van he usually uses—Logan removes the mask and swaps it with a chauffeur’s cap, the tinted windows and the dark of night providing additional cover, and texts his boss an update.

_\--The package is secured._ He looks over at the professor sitting primly (if crankily) in the back seat, wearing the blindfold he had submitted to with more muttered comments, and what appeared to be a visible eye-roll.

He shrugs. Well, more or less.

He adds one more word: _Delivery?_ And hits send.

Lehnsherr texts him back almost immediately, instructing him to bring the man up to his lounge. Logan frowns for a minute—that is unexpected and unanticipated. Then again, nothing about this job has been conventional so far, so Logan doesn’t know why he’s surprised. After checking once more to make sure that Xavier is still in position, he shakes his head and pulls away from the curb.

\-----

This is far from the first job Logan has completed for Lehnsherr, and when he reaches the mob boss’ main headquarters he and his charge are quickly ushered through security. He adjusts his mask in the elevator on the way up to the penthouse that is Lehnsherr’s private residence. Logan raps briefly on the door of the lounge, before pulling it open and wheeling his captive into the room.

“Ah, Charles!” Lehnsherr nods at Logan to cut the zip ties binding his hands together (the blindfold having been already removed in the elevator), closes the file he’s working on, tossing it on the coffee table, and leans back on the fancy leather couch, lacing his fingers together in his lap—seemingly giving the other man his full attention. “Can I offer you a drink?”

Surprisingly fast across the carpeted room, the professor wheels past Logan, who lets him go, startled by his sudden break from docility, and _slaps_ Lehnsherr across the face. “You asshole!”

Logan is utterly shocked when, instead of pulling out his gun and shooting the man, Lehnsherr _grins_.

“What,” he replies, chuckling slightly, “a man doesn’t have the right to see his husband?”

_Husband??_

“ _Estranged_ husband. And, no, not if _I_ don’t want to see _you_ —and by the way what a lovely euphemism for what is, in fact, kidnapping!”  

“What’s a man to do? You weren’t returning my calls.” Lehnsherr’s face betrays his languid pleasure at the other’s outburst, a reaction which seems to enrage the professor further.

“I have more important things to do than listen to apologetic pleas from a brute of an ex! And furthermore you have no right to just go about abducting people from their homes--I was grading papers, Erik!”

You know you’ll forgive me, Charles, you always do.”  

Xavier raises his eyebrows, as if he can’t believe the other's nerve, and looks as though he’s ready to snap back--when Lehnsherr takes his hand, and the gentleness of the act seems to completely disarm him. “I’ve missed you, _Schatz,”_ he says low and provocatively as he rubs the other man’s fingers between his own.

Logan suddenly senses that he’s intruding on something very private. For one long moment the room aches with tension, and into the silence Xavier murmurs, “you insufferable bastard---”and then the professor is dragging Lehnsherr forward by his collar—Logan almost steps in to intervene—and _kissing_ him—although maybe kissing is the wrong word, it’s more like he’s trying to eat the other’s face. For his part, Lehnsherr fumbles to put down the wheelchair’s brakes before reciprocating just as fiercely.

Logan feels slightly ill, though he’s not sure of the exact cause—the thought that Lehnsherr has just blown a 15 grand retrieval fee on some kind of kinky booty call, or that he has been made complicit in it—participated, however unknowingly, in his boss’ sex life.

Extremely uncomfortable, he clears his throat, hoping to remind the others of his presence in the room. At this point the crime lord’s hands are fisted in Xavier’s hair, and the professor has dragged his boss halfway on top of him, into his chair.

Lehnsherr loosens his grip for just a moment to wave Logan from the room. “Thank you Logan, Azazel will see you’re paid.”

With his pay assured and his dismissal granted, Logan practically bolts from room, not quite managing to avoid hearing the professor moaning low and urgently exactly how he expects Lehnsherr to make it up to him.


End file.
